You'll Be On My Mind
by dreamgurl
Summary: A little fluff for Chuck and Blair - a look into what they could be in season 3. CB have a fight, and a little prodding from S and bank staring from N gets them back on track.


**You'll Be On My Mind**

**Summary: **What is hopefully a fun one-shot about some speed bumps Chuck and Blair encounter in their relationship, and how they get through it with a little bit of help from the Non-Judging Breakfast Club.

**Author's Note: **There are no spoilers employed here on my part, other than cliffhangers from the end of season 2, and maybe a tiny bit of inspiration from the latest promos.

**Disclaimer: **I know this comes as an absolute shock, but no, I'm not Josh Schwartz. And, how dare you, I'm not Stephanie Savage, either! GG is not mine, and neither are its characters.

---

"I'm so sick of this, Chuck!" Blair practically screeched as she stomped around the Palace hotel suite, collecting her things in a furious haste. "It's always the same – all you ever do is work."

"It's not my fault," Chuck insisted stubbornly, losing his patience. "I have a lot of catching up to do with the company." He knew it would be hard with Blair at college and him in the working world, but ever since Georgina's triumphant return to the UES as her roommate, Blair's nerves had been on edge and their fights had gone from playful and sexy to bitter and _tired_.

"Do you really think I want to leave you just to hole myself up in the office all day long?" He asked for what seemed like the millionth time. "Or stare at old buildings until my head explodes?" He tried to make it sound more unpleasant than normal, because the truth was he loved his job. Just not as much as he loved Blair.

"I don't know," she admitted, but her eyes soon started flashing again. "It happens so often. Maybe you have a whore of a secretary over there that you're desperate to visit."

Now it was Chuck's turn to get angry. His nostrils flared and his eyes became Voldemort-esque slits as he gritted out, "Celia worked for my father, and I already told you, I have no interest in sleeping with her."

"Why is that?" Blair sneered. "A little too 'Been there, done that?' I mean, you have done that with everyone _else _in Manhattan." Here she paused for dramatic effect before adding, "Oh, yeah. Brooklyn, too."

"No, because _Jack's_been there, done that," Chuck shot back just as nastily. "Oh, wait. I forgot! I _love_ getting my uncle's leftovers!"

Blair's mouth fell open and her eyes began filling up with tears, and Chuck immediately wished he could take those words back.

"If that's the way you feel about it –"

"No, it's not," Chuck cut in, trying to pull her closer to him. "Blair, please. You know I –" But she wrenched herself out of his grasp and made her way to the door.

"I'll just take myself and my leftovers and leave you alone," she continued dramatically.

"B, don't do this," he pleaded, already knowing how this story would end. He grasped desperately at straws that would keep her in place. "I'll cancel my meeting. I'll take you to class in the limo, and we can talk."

"You can keep your limo," she sniffed with as much dignity as she could muster. "I'll take a taxi, thank you. Hell, I'll even take the subway."

"No, you won't." Chuck almost smiled at the thought of Blair riding the subway, but her murderous look set him straight again.

"Fine," he assented quickly. "Then at least meet me here after. I'll make us some dinner, and –"

"Just stop it, Chuck." Blair spoke sharply to keep his words from convincing her to do anything she'd regret (or anything she actually _wanted_ to do, for that matter).

"This obviously isn't working," she continued with difficulty. "As of right now, you can consider us officially over. I'd rather spend every night of the year with Georgina than spend another minute here with you."

Chuck gulped, finding himself unable to say a word as Blair walked out of his suite, slamming the door behind her. He walked over to the bar to pour himself a glass of scotch, only to think better of it at the last second and throw the glass against the wall instead.

_What a waste of perfectly good scotch,_ he chided himself angrily. Especially considering that Blair was making nothing more than empty threats. He'd bet half his company (the half that belonged to him, anyway) that she'd be back in his arms that very evening, their entire pointless fight forgotten.

---

If anyone had been around to hear Chuck make his bet, he would have lost Bass Industries. A week went by, and Blair made no effort to contact him. She did, however, take part in several fruitless spy missions with Dorota, and conduct aggressive interviews with Serena, Eric, and Nate. Serena and Eric were unwilling to get in the middle of the Chuck/Blair version of World War III and therefore flatly refused to cooperate with information, no matter how much Blair begged. Nate, meanwhile, was too busy untangling the web of his various sticky relationships to worry about how Chuck was handling his own.

The next Monday after class, Blair called Serena (who had opted out of Brown in favor of a crazy search for her father alongside Carter Baizen) and demanded an emergency shopping trip through Nolita. The excuse was that she needed Serena's bohemian fashion sense to help her fit in with the NYU crowd, but the truth was she was hoping to spring her best friend with some surprise questions about her adopted brother.

"Do you think," Blair began cautiously as they walked empty-handed out of Tory Burch, "that maybe I –"

"Yes!" Serena cried in exasperation, causing several passers-by to eye her rudely.

"Yes what?" Blair asked innocently, trying not to sound too eager.

"Yes, you made a terrible mistake breaking up with Chuck. Yes, I think you two are perfect for each other and should be together forever in your psychotic love, driving everyone around you crazy with the way you break up every three weeks but then constantly ask questions about each other. And, yes, he is miserable without you." Serena took a deep breath after she finished her speech, feeling as if the weight of the world had finally been lifted off her shoulders.

"I was just going to ask if you thought I should buy those flats I was looking at," Blair teased, knowing very well that Serena had just told her everything she needed to hear.

"I hate you," Serena responded automatically, but a smile broke out over her face regardless. "And no, you shouldn't buy them. They make you look like a hippie, and Blair Waldorf is not a hippie."

After a short silence, Blair felt the compulsive need to resume her favourite topic of conversation. "Is he really miserable without me?" She asked, smiling a little as she imagined Chuck sitting at home in his striped pyjamas, holding a framed photograph of her in one hand and a tub of Ben and Jerry's in the other, crying into his pink monogrammed handkerchief as he watched **Breakfast at Tiffany's **over and over and over again.

"If you must know, yes," Serena replied, rolling her eyes. "He even came home one night and stayed in Eric's room. That's when you know it's really bad."

Blair's smile grew even wider as her heart filled with compassion for her poor, lost little Chuck.

"Then he's probably suffered enough," she decided. "I think I'll pay him a visit tonight."

Serena's eyes grew wide, and she clutched her best friend's arm in alarm. "Oh, please don't do that. I beg you."

"And why not?" Blair asked as she carefully removed Serena's fingers from her silk sleeve. Now that she was around Carter all the time, who knew where those hands had been?

"Because," Serena sighed in resignation. "You know how Chuck deals with things. You'll surprise him, he'll be with a girl, you'll throw a tantrum and leave, you'll both cry yourselves to sleep, and in the morning you'll start planning each other's destruction." She huffed when she was done outlining the situation. "I'm the one that pays the price, you know. Me and Eric. I know I have sins of my own and this is God's way of making me pay for them, but Eric is young and innocent! He suffers!"

Blair stared at her friend with disdain, barely amused by her display of theatrical prowess. "For your information, I have matured deeply," she told Serena in a no-nonsense voice. "I will _not_ throw a tantrum if I catch Chuck with another girl. I accept that it is his nature. In fact, catching him with someone is a guaranteed way to ensure he feels he has something to make up to me."

"You two really are in a league of your own," Serena concluded with a little laugh and a click of her tongue.

---

Blair approached Chuck's suite that night with her heart in her throat. As much as she tried to play it off in front of Serena, she honestly hadn't thought of what she would do if she found Chuck with someone else. Which was pretty damn stupid of her. They were broken up, weren't they? Besides, Serena was right: sleeping with as many people as possible was _exactly_ how Chuck dealt with things.

She took deep, calming breaths as she tried not to envision that stupid slut Celia sleeping in the bed that _she_ and Chuck always shared. Because she knew that if Chuck wanted to get back at her, that was exactly who he would hook up with. That was what she had accused him of doing, after all.

Why had she done that, she wondered – and why did Chuck have to bring up Jack? Why did they always have to hit each other where it hurt the most? They were way too good at that for it to be healthy.

Blair couldn't even remember what they had fought about in the first place. So what if he worked a lot? It was all he had left of his father. And he still came home to her every night, whether it was his suite or her dorm room. And so what if she liked to throw his past misdeeds back in his face every chance she got (not that he was averse to doing this – see aforementioned Jack insult, please)? He had to know she still loved him in spite of – and perhaps even because of – those things.

Blair shook off her fears and summoned up the remains of her courage as she prepared to enter his suite with the key he had given her. She would march in there, drag Celia or whoever out by her stupid blonde hair, make sure she was fired from Bass Industries, and she and Chuck would never speak of it again.

With her newfound resolution in hand, she confidently unlocked the door to see what scene awaited her. There were several empty bottles of alcohol strewn about the floor, which corroborated Serena's 'Chuck is miserable' story. There were also two glasses of scotch on the table, and Blair closed her eyes momentarily, hating the fact that she was right. There was someone here with him.

When she opened her eyes again, she realized that someone else was staring right at her. Having heard Blair accidentally slam the door upon discovering the glasses, Nate had awoken groggily from his couch and turned to look at the twilight intruder.

"Oh, no…" Nate said slowly when his eyes adjusted to the lack of light and registered Blair's face. "Is it that time again? Do you have to get back together _right now_?" He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and yawned as he spoke.

Blair was so relieved she could have kissed him, but she decided against it, seeing as that might cause some future problems with Chuck.

"I'm afraid you're right," Blair answered with satisfaction. "So could you please be a good boy and make your way back to Columbia? I'm sure some pre-frosh needs assistance finding her way to your bedroom."

"The subway's dangerous at this time, you know," he grumbled, annoyed by the interruption of his beauty sleep.

"No, I _didn't_ know," Blair quipped, wearing an expression of disgust at the thought of knowing anything about the underground transportation of Mole People. "If you're so scared of the dark tunnels, take the limo. Chuck won't mind."

Nate nodded sleepily, gathered his things, and left – but not before muttering something about how Chuck and Blair would be the death of them all.

Now that she was alone with a sleeping Chuck, Blair was unsure of what to do. What exactly had she been planning on after surprising him? Since he was supposed to be deep in the clutches of some horrible skank the moment she walked in, she guessed she had been planning on a few slaps followed by some angry make-up sex.

She moved to wake him, but he looked so peaceful in his sleep that she didn't have the heart to do it. Instead, she pulled down some of the covers, crawled in, and curled up next to him.

---

The morning light filtered in through Chuck's partially open curtains, and he woke up to find Blair Waldorf's head resting on his chest. After rubbing his eyes to make sure he wasn't still dreaming (because, yes, he had been dreaming about her), he leaned in a bit to smell her hair and breathe in her jasmine scent. So maybe she had taken a little longer than he expected, but of course she had to come back.

He nudged her lightly and whispered, "Good morning, Princess."

Her eyes fluttered open, and she smiled when she saw him looking down at her lovingly.

"Good morning to you, too," she whispered back.

"I don't remember bringing a girl home last night," he mused out loud.

Blair tried not to giggle as she played along. "Yeah, you were pretty drunk, I think," she agreed.

"I guess I must have picked you because you look exactly like my ex-girlfriend," he said, his eyes sparkling mischievously.

Blair felt a pang in her chest at his last word, and she decided she couldn't wait any longer.

"What a coincidence!" She exclaimed, and Chuck immediately began questioning her with his eyes. "I also look exactly like your _future_ girlfriend."

She only took in his delighted expression for a split second before pulling him in and kissing him like her life depended on it. And, in that moment, she kind of felt like maybe it did.

---


End file.
